


snippets of something wonderful

by ajxqueen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Compilation, F/M, One Shot Collection, seriously i have tons of requirements, what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajxqueen/pseuds/ajxqueen
Summary: a series of raivis galante/natalya arlovskaya one-shots, because shipping a crack pairing has never been this obsessive.





	1. Chapter 1

"Any more nominations?" Ludwig Beilschmidt, the incumbent club president, asked, sweeping his gaze over the students assimilated before him.

It was the History Club's officers' election, and if sophomore Raivis Galante was to be asked, he did not want to be elected in any position, thank you very much. That skepticism probably came from his rather thin stature and his tendency to be overlooked and bullied, but, hey, no club positions meant no extra responsibilities, right?

"I respectfully nominate myself as club president!" Peter Kirkland, a rather obnoxious freshman, cried, his clenched fist raised.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow at him, but wrote his name of the board nevertheless. "Kirkland, then. Last one?"

Raivis' gaze drifted over to Natalya Arlovskaya, AKA his hopeless unrequited crush since he knew what the term crush meant. She was sitting a few chairs behind him, wearing her usual stoic expression, and staring at the board in sheer nonchalance.

Raivis gulped. She looked very, very pretty to him.

"Yes, Galante?"

He also did not realize that he has risen his hand.

"U-uhm..." he said, scrambling to stand up. A few snickers echoed throughout the room, which were silenced by Ludwig's glare. "I..." Raivis began, fiddling with his fingers, "respectfully nominate..." he gave his love another hopeless glance, "Natalya Arlovskaya as club president."

It was as if a silence bomb detonated inside the room.

Natalya's icy-blue eyes snapped to him, and he blanched in fear.

"Arlovskaya, then. You may take your seat, Galante." Raivis did what he was told, as Ludwig wrote Natalya's name on the board, under Peter's. The German then faced the students once again, and planted his hands on the table before him. "Now, who wants to—Natalya?"

Everyone's eyes turned to the platinum-haired sophomore, who had stood up, with her arms crossed. "I move that the nomination be closed," she said coolly, before taking her seat again.

"Ve, I second the motion!" Feliciano Vargas called from the desk in front of Ludwig, his grin wide.

Ludwig furrowed his brows at the brunet Italian. "You know we don't have a say in this election anymore, Feli."

"Ve?" Feliciano pouted. "But, ve, I want to second the motion!"

The German closed his eyes for about ten seconds, then sighed. "Fine. The nomination has been moved to be closed, and has been seconded. Now, let's move on to the actual election. Anyone who is in favor of Peter Kirkland as the History Club's president, raise your hand."

A few hands raised in the air. Raivis shifted in his seat to look at Natalya, who was, surprisingly, already glaring daggers into his skull. He blushed; this was the first time that she looked at him like that.

"...ve, ve, ve... seven votes, Luddy!" Feliciano said brightly. Ludwig nodded, and wrote a bold number 7 beside Peter's name.

Peter sunk into his seat.

"Anyone who is in favor of Natalya Arlovskaya as the History Club's president, raise your hand."

Majority of the students inside the room raised their hands. With his eyes still locked with Natalya's, Raivis raised his hand, a feat of sudden brash bravery. Natalya raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused.

"Ve, majority wins, Luddy!" Feliciano said. Ludwig nodded.

"I hereby declare Natalya Arlovskaya as History Club's president. Miss Arlovskaya, please take charge," Ludwig said, stepping away from the board and taking a seat next to Feliciano.

Natalya huffed, before making her way to the front of the assembly.

As she passed Raivis, she stopped. "If you don't get to be my vice-president, I am quitting this club."

Raivis' eyes widened. "E-eh?" 

She rolled her eyes at him. "I believe in you, nerd."

Needless to say, the newly-elected officers' first group photograph featured, amongst many grinning faces, a smirking Natalya Arlovskaya, her arm around a clearly-frightened-for-his-life-but-was-still-blushing Raivis Galante.


	2. ii.

Natalya woke up to a soft rendition of Bach's Air in G String. Wondering where the music was coming from, she decided not to change out of her robe, and walked the halls of Ivan's house barefoot.

She immediately noticed that the usual clamor was not present. Ivan's laughter was not ringing throughout the house, and the sound of Yekaterina's bouncing chest was not heard, either.

Natalya's brows furrowed. Where was everyone?

Only the sound of the violin was present. She followed it, passing through the closed rooms of her housemates in her trek. Natalya let the music wash through her, let it soothe her nerves.

When she found the source of the music, she was quite surprised. It came from the door at the end of the second floor, the one wherein a nameplate which read Raivis was plastered. She examined the nameplate with a slight tilt of the head, wondering how on earth the skittish boy had learned to play something this beautiful.

Her curiousity winning over her, Natalya cautiously pushed the door open. It was surprisingly unlocked.

Raivis had his back on her, his hands skillfully making violin strands produce art. He did not hear the door creak open, and Natalya took this as a sign to push the door open further.

She leaned against the doorframe, and watched him play. Natalya noted that Raivis was breathing in sync with his upward strokes, his usually drooped shoulders looking strong, his stature seeming taller, now that he's in his element.

Natalya couldn't help but sigh at how beautiful the music was—at how beautiful Raivis was.

The bow struck a wrong note, and in the midst of the echo of the dissonance, Raivis turned towards the door, but Natalya was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sERIOUSLY I NEED TO STOP PUBLISHING FICS AT A TIME I'M SUPPOSED TO BE DOING SCHOOLWORK


	3. does it make you feel special, raivis?

Raivis always, always got himself drunk beyond oblivion on the night of August 25th. This was tradition; one he kept solemnly, no matter wherever he was in the world, for 15 years now. The routine was simple: first, he'd get off work early, then he'd go to Vecriga to buy the strongest liquor he could find, and then he'd lock himself in the apartment for the rest of the night.

His siblings knew about this. They also knew, from experience, that Raivis was not to be disturbed when he was drinking. So, when he'd pulled his curtains over the window and blocked out Rīga's dying sunlight, he was assured that this night would go according to plan.

The first shot was downed quickly, and was followed even more quickly by the second, the third, the fourth—when all of the bottles were empty and Raivis looked up, his vision spun.

It was time to pick up the phone.

She answered almost right away, as if she was waiting for it. Considering the length of this tradition, she most probably had.

“Baltkrievija,” he whispered. The apartment was quiet and dark, and his voice was quite loud. “Baltkrievija. Happy birthday.”

There was some shuffling, then he heard a soft sigh. “Thank you,” she said, the usual edge of her tone not present. She was probably exhausted from the celebrations held today. “Your siblings are staying in Minsk, by the way. Raimonds passed out and Raina said she wouldn't be bothered to carry him all the way there.”

Raivis snickered. “He's drinking more than usual recently, you know.” He hiccupped, which surprised him, and then he was laughing. “Sorry, sorry. I think—I think I drunk more than necessary, too.”

“You won't be calling me if you didn't,” she pointed out, but not unkindly.

He laughed again, now ducking his head down because too much laughter made him dizzy. “I did that, didn't I?” Despite his laughter, his tone was low, remorseful, even. “I can't ever call you like this when I'm sober.”

“Should I remind you that you can't even talk straight when you're sober?”

“Too cruel, Baltkrievija, too cruel,” he replied with a wince. When she chuckled almost inaudibly from the other end however, it was immediately replaced with a smile. “You know what? I love hearing your laughter. You should laugh more often.”

There was a scoff, and he could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Next you would be telling me to smile. Horrific.”

Raivis shook his head even though she couldn't see him. “No, please don't. I'll probably get a heart attack.”

There was silence. He knew she hadn't hung up on him yet because he could hear her rhythmic breathing.

“Raivis.” The way she said his name always, always made his heart skip a beat. “Thank you for greeting me.”

He hummed softly. “Natalya. I'm sorry.”

“For what?” she asked. She was being so patient with him, even if she already knew what would be happening next.

“Because I failed you. Lots of times.” There they were, the tears. He was such a crybaby, this was so embarrassing. “If only I was as resourceful as Raina, or as smart Rebeka... Hell, if I only was as good at fighting as Raimonds... I wouldn't have gone down first.”

“It wasn't your fault.” This was what she always told him, and while it rang the truth, Raivis refused to accept it. “Never was. And I never blamed you.”

“I could have protected you,” he insisted. Oh, how desperately he wished for time to be reversed; Raivis was assured he would be doing things differently the second time. “Or fought for you. Whatever.”

“Raivis, no. Even your siblings tried that, remember? They tried fighting for those they held dear. Raina fought desperately for the Bishopric, and I can vaguely remember Raimonds doing the same for Selonia.” She sighed. “Besides, I'm not... I don't deserve it.”

“You deserve everything I have to give,” he said immediately in response, perking up in his seat.

“Try telling me that sober.”

That shut him up. He wouldn't remember this in the morning, this conversation, and she would never bring it up even if they saw each other. But Raivis would know that he did call.

“But during the war—”

“No, Raivis. It wasn't your job in the first place to take me or anyone of my siblings in. You were thinking of your own freedom, then. I understand that.”

“You're always so, so understanding. Especially when it comes to my... to my shortcomings.” He wiped hastily at one eye, but there was a small grin on his face. “You never show that to others, you know. I feel it.”

“Does it make you feel special, Raivis?” Her tone was patronizing, teasing, but he wasn't picking up on it.

He was giggling again. “I feel like I don't deserve it, to be honest,” he murmured seriously, when his giggles died down. “I don't deserve you.”

“I'm not yours.”

“I know,” he replied with another wince, and, this time, it stayed. “But I have your undivided attention tonight, right? This night is mine.”

“Unless you actually man up and tell me this sober, then yes. You only get one night in my year.”

“That hurt more than your knives do.”

She laughed. It was clichéd and cheesy, but Natalya's laughter always sounded like music to Raivis' ears. Familiar as birdsong in the early mornings, sweet as a cookie with too much sugar in it.

“I love you.”

She stopped laughing, but he could imagine the vestige of it, a ghost of a grin, still lighting up her face. “I know that,” she replied simply, as this was also tradition.

“Sometimes I wish we weren't like this. I wish we were ordinary humans. So things wouldn't be this complicated.”

“You're the one who complicates things, Raivis,” she reminded him. “You know what I'll tell you if ever you actually confess.”

Raivis sighed. “I can't. Not when I still think I don't deserve you. I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

He closed his eyes. “Good night, Natalya.”

The succeeding silence once the line went dead was deafening. Raivis was already looking forward to doing this again next year.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BELARUS!

**Author's Note:**

> gdi—i finally published the first one. hahaha will 2 live wer u @?


End file.
